


lavender blue

by CallicoKitten



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aristocracy, Coming of Age, Gay Male Character, Gender Dysphoria, Infidelity, Multi, Period-Typical Homophobia, Siblings, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:52:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallicoKitten/pseuds/CallicoKitten
Summary: forgive me if you’ve heard this one before; the high born girl, doted upon daughter of the earl grows up best friends with a servant boy until the great war happens and tears them both apart.it is supposed to go like this: she loves him, loves him so much she’ll do anything to protect him but he has to leave. marches off to war with all the other young men she knows and most of them will come back in body bags except this is not that story because Henrietta Morley has never felt much like a girl.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm looking for a beta reader/someone to bounce ideas off/chat too or two for this story and i may (or may not) continue posting it on here since i don't really know if it's a publishable story in the traditional sense. i want feedback on all aspects from the prose to the characters to my general lack of historical research 
> 
> a note on henry: this story begins before he's realised he's well, a he and please remember that sexuality and gender identity are seperate beings entirely
> 
> anyway, if you read this and you like it please, please leave a comment or come talk to me on [tumblr](http://callicokitten.tumblr.com/) and tell your friends about it? 
> 
> you can also find it [here](https://www.wattpad.com/352735450-lavender-blue-0-authors-note) on wattpad if that's more your jam and there's a reblogable post [here](http://nkwrites.tumblr.com/post/155224305316/lavender-blue-forgive-me-if-youve-heard-this-one) if you'd be so kind.
> 
> enjoy, i hope.

**i.**

The morning before her sister's engagement was announced, Henrietta Morley slipped away early, across the grounds and in to the forest to meet her sister's betrothed.

It was all rather scandalous, really but in the grand scheme of things, in the grand scheme of Henrietta's life, secret meetings with her sister's soon-to-be fiancé in the forest were _nothing_. She and Archie had been carrying on like this for years with no one the wiser. Well, no one but her two favourite people in the word and they were unlikely to spill.

He was tall and well formed, her, Archie.  Archie Linden, his hair a mass of golden curls and his eyes warm and dark. They had met at the same ball he had been introduced to Henrietta's sister, Cecilia, when he was twenty and Henrietta was seventeen, a grand affair held by the Prince of Wales. It had been a magical night and at the end of it he had pressed a kiss to her cheek and she had felt a certain _fluttering_.

She had never questioned why Archie only had eyes for her. Her sister was beautiful, statuesque but unfortunately,  it was not only her looks she shared with works of great sculpture. Cecilia was cold and unmoving as marble, as unattainable, as unblemished. Indeed, in the face of Cecilia's pale skin and chestnut hair, her crimson lips and inky-dark eyes, Henrietta had always felt a little wanting. Her hair was more mousy than chestnut, her skin smattered with freckles, her eyes the colour of sludge. She was not _unattractive,_ to be sure, but in Cecilia's frosty wake, she still felt somehow _less than_. Luckily, Henrietta more than made up for it in personality and while Cecilia had curtsied and danced prettily with Archie all evening, it had been Henrietta that made him fall over himself laughing.

He had kissed her that winter while his family was staying for the Christmas balls her father threw, in the corner of the large library, by the windows. Then, it had been much more about taking her sister's things; revenge for whatever it was that Cecilia had done that particular week, that particular month. Now, she was unsure. She had grown quite fond of Archie for his gentle fingers and his warm smiles. He wasn't a particularly great conversationalist but Henrietta didn't mind, it wasn't _her_ who was marrying him, after all. It was Cecilia who would have to sit, bored and pretty, while Archie waffled on about his horses or his guns or whatever other triviality was on his mind at that time.

She tethered Griffin to a tree before making her way down to the lake. It was more a pond, really, but it had been a favourite haunt of hers since childhood and it had seemed much bigger then. She and Enoch had used it in many of their games, as a great sea to be traversed, as the lake of Arthurian Legend, hiding Excalibur in its murky depths.

Archie was already waiting for her, wearing a heavy coat to fend off the morning chill. It was early spring; the leaves were just starting to grow back. By summer, Archie would be married. Their days were numbered, she realised as she trudged down the bank to meet him.

Archie rubbed his hands together in the cold. He wasn't supposed to reach the manor until luncheon but she had written to him and persuaded him to come a little early. They would be back in time for breakfast if Henrietta's time keeping was as excellent as she thought it was. She would say she had come upon him on her customary morning ride and Archie would simply say he couldn't resist the temptation of a few extra hours with Cecilia before the ball that night.

(Cecilia would no doubt smile and flutter her eyelashes but roll her eyes as soon as Archie looked away.)

"I don't know what you mean getting me to meet you _here_ ," Archie said, as he spotted her approaching. "I had a frightful time finding it and I'm certain I've leaves in my hair. What will I say to your sister, to your parents?"

Henrietta laughed, reaching up to run her hands through his curls. "No leaves," she said. "You're perfect. Don't fret."

He smiled pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek and then, with a mischievous wink, a decidedly less chaste kiss to her mouth.

Henrietta had not kissed many men (if anyone asked though, she had not kissed _any_ men because that would be _unbecoming_ ) but of the men she had kissed, she liked Archie the best. He never treated her like she was some china doll or a dizzy child who needed schooling in all the ways of the world. He treated her like an equal and that, Henrietta had found, was something of a rarity among men.

"I have missed you so," Archie said, his face pressed to her hair.

They sat on the banks, side by side, their legs tangled together. "We should be getting back soon," Henrietta said.

"Oh, _must_ we? I can't believe in a few short hours I will _officially_ be betrothed to your sister."

"Well, you've known that for years," Henrietta said, leaning her head on his shoulder. They had been promised to each before they even met. Not that there was anything in writing. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll make a lovely wife and give you a whole brood of sharp eyed little children." Truly, the thought of an army of tiny Cecilia's gave her a shudder. Perhaps they would take after Archie, kind hearted and dull witted.

Archie hummed, "If she doesn't dismember me first. Honestly, I have known her for the better part of three years and I'm still not certain that she likes me."

"I've known her my _whole life_ and I'm certain she _doesn't_ like me so - and trust me when I say this - you should consider yourself lucky, Lord Langdon. If my sister was sour on you, you'd be far less giddy about the whole thing and you certainly wouldn't be meeting me for secret kisses."

" _Giddy,_ " Archie echoed. "I don't know that _giddy_ is really the word for it but, I suppose, you're right."

Henrietta beamed, "I often am." She sprang up, extending a hand to Archie, "Come on, we must start up to the house if we're to make breakfast."

With a heavy sigh he took her hand and allowed her to heft him up. He brushed down his trousers and jacket, shook out the flat cap he had been twisting in his hands and set it atop his head. "I suppose Lady Allison will have to work at finding you a match now," he called, as they retrieved their respective mounts.

"Oh, _don't,_ " Henrietta said, swinging herself up onto Griffin's saddle. Most ladies rode side saddle, Henrietta had never bothered with it. "As long as you give my sister a strapping son to inherit our father's land I shall be free to do as I please."

"I see," Archie joked, "And your parents are aware of your plans to gallivant about the country corrupting young men as you see fit, I trust."

"I bloody hope so," she smirked.

-

"Oh," the stable boy, Andrew, said as they reached the house. "You're just in time, m'lady, m'lord. They've just begun serving breakfast."

"Thank you, Andrew," Henrietta said, sliding off Griffin's back and handing his reigns across. Archie followed suit, handing his mare's reigns to Andrew with a cool smile. "Shall we?" he said, indicating the path up to the house.

Her Lord Father was passing the door as she and Archie arrived and he made a face as he saw them. "Ettie, darling, we've _spoken_ about this. You can't simple go gallivanting off every morning and merrily track mud through the house. _Especially_ on a day such as this."

Henrietta smiled, "I'm sorry, Papa but you know how Griffin frets if he doesn't get enough exercise and with the ball later I hardly thought I'd get the time."

Her father rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to Archie. "I am _sorry_ , Archie. I hope when you are in my position you hold more sway over any children you may have."

"Well, since they will also be Lady Cecilia's children, I shouldn't hold out much hope."

The two men chuckled and shook hands warmly. "It is _good_ to see you, my boy," her father told Archie, clapping him on the back. "Though we weren't expecting you until much later."

"I know, I'm terribly sorry, Lord Morely, but I simply could not miss the chance to spend a few more hours with my darling Cecilia before the ball So I came a little early. My luggage will follow later with my man and my parents. They should arrive sometime after noon. I hope it's no trouble."

Archie was such a terribly convincing liar.

"Quite understandable, my boy, it's no trouble." Her father turned to her, "And you, my dear, better go change into something more appropriate before you give your Lady Mother a heart attack."

"Trust me, Papa, she's seen me in far worse than my riding clothes," Henrietta teased.

"Please, don't tell me," her father begged as he guided Archie towards the dining hall. "Just get changed."

Henrietta smiled at their retreating backs and carried on up the stairs to her room where her maid, Ada met her with an outfit already laid out. It was rather simple dress, blue and patterned, layered with a beaded necklace.

Henrietta avoided looking in the mirror while Ada helped her shrug out of her riding jacket and breeches. She had always felt more comfortable in her riding gear than in any of the dresses in her possession. As a child she had such screaming matches with her mother and various nannies over the pretty dresses and skirts she was stuffed in each morning. Nowadays, she simply grinned and bared it and dreamt of the freedom riding leant her.

She was the last down to breakfast. Her mother wasn't present of course; she took her breakfast in bed as was her right as a married woman, but the rest of the household was. Her father, her sister and Archie chatting over their eggs and toast, her father's ward, Nate picking at his bacon. She took the empty seat on her father's left hand side, opposite Nate, and made her greetings.

"Ah, that's better," her father said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. "You look lovely, my dear."

Henrietta thanked him. Across the table, her sister gave a thin lipped smile, "I must apologise again on behalf my sister," she said, laying her hand atop of Archie's. "We haven't quite got her tame yet."

"Mm, our parents and governesses were dreadfully busy with Cecilia," Henrietta said, filling her plate. "She was quite a handful, you know. I fear I did not receive enough instruction because of it."

Cecilia's smile did not falter though the grip on the handle of her knife tightened and Archie disguised his laugh with back of his hand as a cough.

"Now, now, girls," Her father said, sternly. "It should be nice if we all made it to tonight's ball without a maiming over breakfast."

Henrietta smiled sweetly at her sister. Cecilia smiled back.

She had heard that generally, siblings got along. Archie certainly got along with his sister and their cousins, Violet, Rose and Timothy were still thick as thieves despite all three of them being married now. It seemed to Henrietta a wholly alien concept, to be so chummy with one's sibling. She could not recall a time when she and Cecilia were not kicking each other in the shins or pulling each other's hair. Her mother blamed it on their strong personalities; Cecilia she called headstrong (read: stuck up cow) and Henrietta she had dubbed abrasive. They were oil and water, in theory similar, in practise, completely different.

She had a similar relationship Nate too, though that was more to do with his complete _lack_ of personality than his strength of will. He had come to live with them when he was five and it was rather an open secret that he was their father's illegitimate child. Cecilia was beastly to him about it, treating him as though it was entirely his fault their Papa had strayed. For her part, Henrietta had tried to be welcoming but Nate had been a quiet, awkward creature then as he was now.

It had always gone the same way with them when they were young: Henrietta would orchestrate grand games for them in the nursery and Nate, unimaginative as broom, would be stubborn and bored and soon the whole thing would devolve into fisticuffs. She smiled a little at the memories. It was a wonder; she thought, that the three Morley children hadn't brought the house down about their ears in their youths with all their screaming matches a brawls. Their hatred of one another had solidified as they'd grown, Nate because she and Cecilia were Lord Morley's trueborn children and thus outranked him, Henrietta because _despite_ being Lord Morley's trueborn child she knew her father would never mark her as he did Nate.

Things were a little less explosive these days. She and Cecilia were content to snipe at each through practised convincing smiles and she and Nate mostly ignored one another.  

He sat very carefully, keeping his elbows tucked close to his body as though very cognizant of the space he was occupying and having a desire to actively minimize it and he had far more of their father's look than either of the two of them, his true born daughters. Nate's hair was auburn. He bore the same freckles as Henrietta did and his eyes were a dull, stony grey. His features were angular, in juxtaposition to his rounded cheeks and Henrietta had often found herself thinking that he would be handsome if only his features would pick one side or the other. Or perhaps, smile more. He had a tendency towards melancholy, their Nathaniel and this morning it was clear that he was feeling rather dour.

"Good morning, Nate," she said to him, once Cecilia had looked away.

He smiled at her but it didn't seem to reach his eyes, "Good morning, Ettie."

-

After breakfast, Henrietta slipped away from the main house to the servant's yard. The house was built so that the servant's quarters opened out at the side, the walled off area for deliveries running almost parallel to her late Grandmother's flower gardens. It was terribly convenient and Henrietta could walk by the yard and peer in, walk on to the gardens if there anyone undesirable about but happily, today she only spied Enoch, lounging against a wall smoking.

The Morley's had been the Lords and Ladies of Tintsbury since the early 1500's. The house was grand and sprawling, three floors not counting the servant's quarters in the attic and the basement kitchens. The grounds were vast, populated by all manner of beasts. They held balls and lavish dinners, fetes and shooting parties in the summer and yet, for all of that, Henrietta never felt so content as when she snuck down to the servant's yard to Enoch.

He had been at Tintsbury all his life, the son of Henrietta's mother's maid. They had been born within a few months of each other and since Henrietta's nanny was great friends with his mother they had more or less grown up together, roaming the grounds and the village. It had been a hard habit to shake when Henrietta had gone from child to _Lady_ and had been required to fill her days taking tea and fluttering her eyelashes at eligible Lords during parties.

He didn't smile when he saw her but he did pull out his box of cigarettes and hold it out towards her. "We've only a short time," he warned. "There'll be all manner of Lords and Ladies arriving soon and the yard will be swarming with their servants."

"Oh, cheer up, Enoch," Henrietta said, accepting the cigarette he offered. "My sister is getting engaged, we should be celebrating. Archie will soon whisk her away."

Enoch made a face, searching his jacket pocket for his lighter. "Small mercies," he said, drawing it out. He hesitated before lighting her cigarette.

"Its fine," she assured. "I'll have to change before luncheon and then again before dinner," she rolled her eyes.

He grinned around his cigarette and held the flame up to hers. "You know if we get caught I'll be fired," he said, as he always did.

Henrietta took a drag. "And I'll be exiled and hire you as my butler," she replied, as she always did. "Then I can speak with you as much as I please."

"Not if I'm butler, I shall be far too busy attending to your house to sit and gab with you all day."

"Oh, don't worry; I wouldn't be in the habit of holding balls. I'd be a hermit."

Enoch looked at her fondly, "You'd be awfully bored, you know."

"I suppose so," Henrietta agreed. She sighed, tossed herself dramatically against the wall beside him. "You should _see_ the monstrosity they've picked out for me to wear tonight. It's so frilly and pink I shall look more like a wedding cake than a person."

"I'll trade you, if you want," Enoch said. "You run up and down from the kitchens all evening carry food and cocktails and have orders barked at you and I'll throw on a dress and chatter about nothing, eating fine food."

"Alright, you've quite made your point there, Mr Ellis."

He smiled, more to himself than to her and took another drag. "I thought you'd be jealous," he said, after he'd exhaled.

Henrietta narrowed her eyes, "Jealous about what?"

"About Lady Cecilia marrying Lord Langdon, of course," he said, smoothly. He was watching her carefully, studying her expression. He did not approve of her dalliance with Archie and for a time, she had thought it was because he was in love with her. It would make sense, after all. Enoch harboured no warm feelings towards Cecilia and she and he were close, he had given her her first kiss at twelve in the woods, near the same lake she had met Archie at earlier. But last year she had caught him with the gardener's apprentice on the grounds so she knew that _that_ couldn't be true.

She had found it less shocking than she probably ought to have but then she had heard her father discuss men of that persuasion frequently enough that she didn't find it shocking. Apparently, she had had an uncle who was that way inclined who had fled to America in his youth. Her father often recounted the story whilst drunk to visiting dignitaries while her mother tried to shush him, reminding him there were ladies present and, in any case, it wasn't the done thing to bare the family shame to anyone who would lend an ear.

She peered at Enoch through the clouds of smoke billowing up around them, "She can have him," she said. "You know I don't like him as more than a - " she broke off, casting about for the right phrase.

"Plaything?" Enoch finished for her, stubbing his cigarette out on the wall behind him.

She mimicked the gesture, " _Careful,_ Mr Ellis, I could have you fired for your impertinence."

Enoch smiled. "I've a half day on Tuesday," he said. "If you're around."

Henrietta smiled, "I should be. Think we could sneak down to the village?"

"Maybe," he said. "Though won't Mr Nathaniel start getting wise if you keep pinching his clothes?"

"Oh, I doubt it. He's such a dolt and he has so many things I doubt he'd notice if he squirrelled away his entire wardrobe."


End file.
